New Orleans Ladder: 12/28/08

Saturday, January 3, 2009

Samedi

Mother's colorful memorial to her son has both fans and critics
~Katy Reckdahl
Editilla T'n'T~New Orleans Can Thrive

Gaza Protest in New Orleans Tomorrow!~My Private Casbah

New Documentary About NOLA ...and Katrina...
~Watergate Summer

$30 million levee filled with holes, Corps of Engineers commands: "Do it Our Way or the Flood Way" ~Nikki Buskey

But the $30 million levee will have four gaps -- each from 200 to 600 feet wide -- where existing pipelines will cut through it.
Corps officials say it is impossible for them to build a complete levee given time and money constraints.
“So we’ll have a super-strong six-mile section of levee with four no-work zones.

Basically that’s a six-mile levee with four holes in it,” said state Sen. Reggie Dupre, D-Bourg. “After the corps finishes its job, someone’s going to have to go and finish this levee."
~Special thanks~ Illustration above left: New Orleans Levee
Illustration middle right: da'Masqued E'vinga!
Photo bottom left: Daily Comet

Levees.org responds to UNO engineering professor's Christmas Day letter
~Editilla Notellas~ Re-posted due to continued Rock'N'Rollicking Commentary on this issue of Slight-of-Hand and just how a Civil Engineering Professor from UNO could say such stupid and erroneous things in defense of the Corps of Engineers and get his ass handed to him by levees.org. Y'all come join the fun!

Erin Brockovich To Visit TN Coal Ash Spill Site

Housing demolition suit set back by appeals court
~Allen M. Johnson Jr.

Wait, WTF, Pope Ratzi Smokes Cigarettes
~Wonkette
~"Is this some hilarious WSJ New Year’s joke?
Because there is no evidence we can locate, outside of some obviously photoshopped images of Ratzi in a cloud of cancer, to suggest our crappiest pope indulges in this particular variety of sucking on cylindrical objects."
Comments:
-Best British English expression EVAR: “Can I bum a fag?”
-Smoke without sex?
-next thing you know, you are gonna tell me that he gets plastered off the communion wine!
-Holy smokes?
-I heard he butts them with his tongue, just to show the Cardinals what a major bad ass he is.

Still Waiting for the Recession in New Orleans ~Steven Gray

Gov't resumes oil purchases for stockpile

Food Storage Basics - Getting Started~Leaving Excess

Biloxi stamp will light the way

Persona: Bryan Batt
~Sue Strachan, NO Magazine

Jazz on the Tube
The Internet's jazz video jukebox
~Editilla Chin'Chillaaaaasss!~ This is one of those Ideas what should'a happened a long time ago! Y'all please go check them out and sign up fo'da Jazz Tube! Here is just a sample:

Special T'anks to Our Friends at Food Music Justice!

Friday, January 2, 2009

Vendredi

Earth Observatory Photos of '08
~The waters of the Barents Sea off the northeast coast of Norway (bottom left) were bright with a bloom of phytoplankton on August 12, 2008, when the Moderate Resolution Imaging Spectroradiometer (MODIS) on NASA’s Aqua satellite passed overhead and captured this photo-like image.

Holy City of Nola Loses Angel
~casa de Charlotte della luna

Helen Hill: An Unfinished Story
~Jason Berry

NoLA Rising Answers Silence is Violence Call to Action!
~Humid City

We understand, Mr. President, we haven’t recovered from Katrina either ~slabbed

Gulf officials discuss hurricane evacuation problems

Social activist, organizer ... and FBI informant~David Hanners
~In a federal courtroom in Minneapolis this month, the public transformation of Brandon Darby will become complete.
In the span of four years, he has gone from firebrand, never-trust-the-government activist in New Orleans to the confidential informant who helped the FBI arrest two Texas men on suspicion of building firebombs during the Republican Convention.
Darby operated in and around the Austin community for about 6 years, and this is the same Brandon Darby who participated in the Common Ground Collective in New Orleans during 2005-2006. More from the Austin Community here.

Blogs Over Baghdad
~Welcome to the blog site of the Army Reserve’s 314th Public Affairs Operation Center while it is in Iraq during 2009.

Military Contracts

Deadline for Hurricane Ike FEMA aid is Jan. 12

Sugar Bowl brings out Katrina volunteers~Susan Edwards

Year eventful for La weather
~Amy Wold

Shrimp and Grits~Chris Berry

Ya Gotta Love Molly
~Merle's Third Try

Galactic Expands New Orleans Sound~Curtis Ross

A Free Music Lesson that Money Couldn't Buy

Thursday, January 1, 2009

Jeudi

Special thanks~NODP

Leave the bonfires to the pros
~People Get Ready

Mississippi on rise at BR;
no flood likely~Amy Wold

AP interview: MS Gov Barbour expects '09 Medicaid growth

Posse Comitatus - Comatose?

Defensive blogging
~ MAJ Jakob Bruhl

"I did not intend to condone these particular actions on the part of my Corps. I intended to use this story as an example of one way we can engage new media in ways other than just running our own blogs. As for "defensive blogging", I do think it is a valid way to engage the public we support.
However, I think the way CENTCOM handles it is the right way - completely open and upfront about who is making the post - unlike the way this was seemingly done on Levees.org."

Flood-control dams eyed for energy potential

Centenary College students continue to help rebuild
New Orleans

In Sum~Appetites

Salad days are ahead in '09
~Judy Walker

Wednesday, December 31, 2008

Mercredi

~Special Thanks- Citizen K

Highway 61 Visited,
The Confederate Gibraltar,
and Reverand Raymond Cooke

Bringing in the New Year at Jackson Square with music and fireworks~Jill Hezeau

Shaw Group Inc's ‘Golden coffin’ challenged by bank
~Gary Perilloux

Parsons to support Army Corps of Engineers

WaPo - AIG a fulcrum of the global financial crisis~slabbed

Possible buried treasure at heart of court battle~Mary Flood

2008 was the year the Army Corps of Engineers came to small town America.
~And came, and came, and came again. It all started in December 2007, when the corps announced it coveted an unspoiled hay meadow in Conneticut. The military group hosted several meetings and press conferences in town this year and by and large dominated the media, what with newspaper and television coverage for each and every visit.

A new parade honoring Joan of Arc joins the Phunny Phorty Phellows to kick off Carnival ~Molly Reid

A look at the best -- and worst -- of the 2008 literary scene
~Susan Larson

New Orleans recipe adds sugar to macaroni and cheese
~Judith Evans

New Orleans' courtyard gardens stay lush in winter

Yes, I Want To Make a Year-End Gift to Support WWOZ!

Tuesday, December 30, 2008

Mardi

Hunk da'Burnin Love da'Home!

OCD~Moldy City

Hank uberstanks
~Your Right Hand Thief

Three years out, city seems to sag
~Jarvis DeBerry ~"People who wonder how the Corps of Engineers is going to protect the city when some of its staffers blame New Orleans for Katrina's flooding may also wonder how Riley will protect the city if he's blaming the high incidence of crime on forces outside his control.
Is this is as good as it gets? We've got to hope it isn't.
Back in 2005, when he was launching his mostly successful push for levee boards reform, former State Sen. Walter Boasso declared, "The days of doing things half-assed are over."'

Times Picayune asks: "Are we too hard on the Corps?", Levees.org responds to UNO engineering professor's Christmas Day letter

Below: today's Corps Ops Ad War Against Democracy (COAWAD) on the Levees.org page.
Perhaps this virtual revenue flood of tax-payer funding is why the Times Picayune/nola.com keeps slyly asking
"Are we too hard on the Corps?" Poor Babies.
Who'da thunk such Cute Engineers could kill over 1200 Americans and try to Lie about it? Not even blink?
Who'dat think they gonna beat dem'Saints? Blink Me!
Click to enlarge and see other Corps ads on levees.org.

The worst service in New Orleans
~Ken Foster

Jena Six: Real Crime Victim:
Poor White People
~Jeff Crouere, BBuzz
~Editilla Shhhhrrrrillas~Like, if I were a taggert...
we'd see a pile of Republicans, a Pack of Zealots, Horde of Peccary, Pods of Congressional Pedophiles, a Gaggle of Palins... but, what we have heah is a fail'yah to CoMoonicate! Hee'yah?
Hee'yah we have a gathering of two or more ignorant poor whites: a Klux of Klan! And Pay No Attention, sayz da'Wizad Crouere,
to DAT'NOOSE HANGIN in da'Tree!
--Or the Klan Rape Training Camp just east of this Eden!
--Or forced sterilization for poor black women!
--Or David Duke, Vitty Scents, The Exorcist!
Hahahaha, the Reaper Laughs like a Rhesus Monkey,
since Death Knowles it is all pink on the inside. Hahahaha.

What a surprise! Deputy Commissioner of MID joins law firm representing State Farm ~slabbed

The Soul of New Orleans
~Julia Reed, Garden & Gun
~Special Editilla Tip'n'Tanks to Thomas Builds-the-Fire over at A Drug Called Tradition. Y'all go and give'em some who'dat special kind'bud love'dubbinations... since they getting all nervous about gettin'any Sugar in they Bowl this year! Hahahaha. Rooolllll Tide! Unless you play our Tigers, then its "Piss Off Yankee Punks!"
Hahahahahaha... I mean, on one hand you have the Graceful Southern Gentlemen and on the other a bunch of Cross-Dressed Out Mormons who have the gall say they understand Jazz after they stole the name for their basketball team. On one hand you have Roll Crimson Tide. On the other you have... Lake Meade? Utes? WTF is a Ute? Sounds like a defecated masticulation. HA!

Support The New Orleans Women's Health Clinic!~elle

Bush aides say Katrina was the turning point -- but where were progressives?
~Chris Kromm, Facing South

Judge rejects class-action status in trailer suits
~Michael Kunzelman

Ike, Gustav most expensive 2008 disasters~Geir Moulson

Tennessee: Corps to dredge river around Kingston plant

Black eyed peas and cabbage
~the mosquito coast

Sunday, December 28, 2008

Dimanche

You're Invited to Bob French's Birthday Party!

Happy Birthday Bob French!
~Big Red Cotton

Tim Wise:
On White Privilege in Chalmette
~New Orleans -- It's Just Me

La. must list gay dads on birth record

"Walking through heaven's gate"
Glen David Andrews
~S'All About Thanks~Food Music Justice

Corps can't get a pass just because it's 'trying'

Today's Advertorial Corps Ops Engagement (ACOE)
Click to enlarge

Google Satellite Maps Of The World - Exciting Images Of The Earth, Hurricane Katrina...

Mark Taylor of the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers leads a group discussion while using colorful sticky notes to map out government coal mining permit process Tuesday, Dec. 9, 2008 in Zanesville, Ohio.

Mr. Secretary, we're watching you~Anne Butterfield

Buffett tops philanthropist list for a 3rd year
~Number of years Warren Buffett has topped the list: 3
Amount given by Warren Buffett, CEO of Berkshire Hathaway, since 2004: $40.655 billion

Cognitive Biases in the Assessment of Risk
~Future Current

Pour Some Sugar on Me
~A Drug Called Tradition

Black woodworkers no longer a lost chapter in New Orleans furniture history~Molly Reid

'Free Will' Martin Urbach
~Mark F. Turner, all about Jazz

Jazzhouse.org

Sinn Féin

New Orleans Ladder
Chere'yat Bourgeois Nievete?
Every goodbye ain't gone.
Every shut eye ain't sleep.
Gonna' build up this Living Ladder.
Gonna lean it up against the world, so we can pass over our damn nation, so we can always find the long road back home.
Stitch-hiking the Web for Daily New Orleans News, Bloggery, Videos, Poetry, Photography, Music and Humor, yeah where'yat, post Kafkatrina Recovery for the City That Care Forgot and Presidente Bush left for dead.
The New Orleans Ladder accepts no advertising revenue.
To contact or submit articles please leave a comment.
Anything goes on the Ladder, except no kiddy- porn ~{which will be forwarded immediately to someone who can track you down quicker (if you're lucky) than I (if you're not), no lie, believe it, faster than a speeding bullet and with as much regard as a dragon fly, perched upon the head of a water moccasin, waiting for its prey} --and no gratuitous profanity.
Just paste the articles' url in the comments.
Contact me directly on Twitter.
Please tell your friends about the Ladder.
Lassezes Le Bon Temp Roule'!!! Who Dat!
Thank You All,
Editilla the Pun.

A note to advertising types
~From your ho'ho homble
Editilla the Pun,
thank you for asking.
Here's the Deal: what we hang upon this Ladder we do so with LOVE, HONOR and AFFECTION. Heart'stopping Awe and Adoration...Aw'dat
--especially this right side.

Of what we hang here I want our Gentle'rillas to know: We accept no ad revenue,only Blessings of Thanks -and Tons-O-Traffic!- from All Youz who'z contacted us with Notes of Glee at finding yourselves thusly hero'hung --by this Ladder with Care-- and we hope y'all get some Gat'zillion hits there!
Please put ya'Finger on'em...
--let'em know we're here!

New Orleans...
a courtesan, not old and yet no longer young, who shuns the sunlight that the illusion of her former glory be preserved.

The mirrors in her house are dim and the frames are tarnished;
all her house is dim and beautiful with age. She reclines gracefully upon a dull brocaded chaise- longue, there is the scent of incense about her, and her draperies are arranged in formal folds. She lives
in an atmosphere of a bygone
and more gracious age.

And those whom she receives
are few in number, and they come to her through an eternal twilight.
She does not talk much herself,
yet she seems to dominate the conversation, which is low-toned but never dull, artificial but not brilliant. And those who are not of the elect must stand forever without her portals.

New Orleans… a courtesan whose hold is strong upon the mature,
to whose charm the young must respond. And all who leave her, seeking the virgin’s unbrown, ungold hair and her blanched and icy breast where no lover has died, return to her when she smiles across her languid fan…

New Orleans.

William Faulkner~1925

My Name Is Burma

Please check out my friend Moe Swe, who emailed me wonderful Burmese Music after we met through my online work with the Burma News Ladder, during the Democracy Crackdown in that country in September-October '07.
I had just joined in New Orleans with Rising Tide, btw, at the 2nd Flood Anniversary. Synchronicity?
One song's lyric: "A drop of rain is now a Raging Tide. Burma How Long?" You tell me. Heads or Tails?
Lotta music there. Take your time.
Use the pause button. Fang though the playlist. Tell yer friends. Enjoy!
As with my love for New Orleans,
I cannot think of a better, quicker way to know Burma than through her music: the song of her soul, the instrument of her dreams, the expression of her hopes & fears.
Burma Sinn Féin!
Burma Rocks World Boogie!
Please shout'out and say hello to
Moe Swe--Let'em know we care.
Kyay Zoo Pyu Pea...Koo NyiBar
Kyay Zoo Tin Bar Dae
8-08-88~~8-08-08
8-28-08

Crucifixion Road

by Karl Demolay

This is for the city that care forgot...
the city that forgot to care.
This city, carelessly forgotten,
our party time's behind us now, sensual drums in the dank and virile heat. City of culinary delights, musical giants, simple pleasures, squalid splendors.
A city of dust, now shrouded in mold, forever succumbing to entropic bliss on pause.
This city of history, a living archive of revelry and regret. The past and the future collide in slow motion. This is the city that must be remembered and rebuilt, this bastion of visceral pleasures and historic decadence. All to our collective delight and nagging melancholia.

This is for the ones that evacuated...
the people who left it all behind. The ones that lost almost everything, or maybe just the one thing they cared about most of all. The ones marooned on highways for far too long, no way home, even as the storm unleashed its initial fury. Those left deserted, no place to rest their heads, thoughts still heavy with guilt or fear or resignation.
This is for the people that won't go back, can't go back, afraid of possibility and all of its attendant pitfalls.
This is for those that have nothing to return to at all, not one single thing.
This is for the ones that relocated, expatriates forced into strange lands with odd customs.
This is for the terminally restless,
the suddenly homeless,
the penniless brave.

This is for the ones that stayed...
the insane, the stranded, the curious tribes, erstwhile survivors and civic warriors alike.
Those souls who stayed calm and true despite the chaos, or lost their minds to apocalyptic fancy.
Battened down and hunkered low, sipping bottled water with hushed first glances, suspicious demeanors and flashlights at the ready.
Proud and defiant holders of the line, sometimes criminal in intent, quick movement on the perimeters, shoot to kill orders...
For all those who were trapped in makeshift shelters, replete with suicides, murders, and rapes: victimization rank and feral.
For the bitter end of salvation, acrid tastes on parched tongues dry, even as bids for escape were made.

This is for the politicians...
Federal, State and Local, at once inept and indispensable, some more than others, caught unprepared, unconcerned, unshaven---Playing cat and mouse in a city of smoldering ruins, screams from the darkness of urgent plight, atavism gone awry. Ignorance and obviousness, the slow motion train wreck broadcast for all to see and discuss, obfuscate and ignore. Declarations of me and mine, you and yours, pitted squarely against they and them. This is for too little, too late, the same old song played at precisely the wrong time, over and over. Nagin, Blanco, Brown, Bush, please report center stage to assume the mantle of scorn and blame, everyone gets their turn.
This is for the ones that try to rewrite history or deny it outright, we wish we could deny it all so easily.

This is for the ones that died...
for the loved ones, the foolish ones, the forgotten and cumbersome alike. For the elderly, the infirmed, Vera in her cobblestone grave, the unidentified ones that received no such memorials.
And our beloved household pets, loyal until the end.
The parks and neighborhood greens, flora and fauna turned to a sepia-tone static gray. The houses, once renowned for their architecture, are reborn as new testaments to the destructive coupling of Mother nature and Human Folly. To the spray-painted X's, harsh and unrelenting, omnipresent in their emergency orange hue: 1 dog dead, 1 person saved.
This is for the newest necropolis to rise, our once proud city, our interrupted way of life, breaks in the line of comfortable static. For the evidence of our empire, washed away in the eye of the storm and the turgid, toxic waters that followed.

This is for the ones that rescued...
the Firefighters, EMT's, Police Officers, National Guard. For the people from far and near that just appeared out of nowhere, just wanting to help any way they could, using anything waterborne. And for the locals brave and true, risking life and limb to save just one more person, over and over and over. For all of the endless, tireless, selfless sacrifices and tear jerking humanity. For their shining light of salvation into the boundless dark, onto rooftops, inside of hacked-out attics, out of harms way to higher ground. For beaming from all directions, these beacons of hope, springing eternal and true.
This is for all those who lent a hand, however small or large. Our gratitude, more than could ever be conveyed, is all we have to offer in return.

This is for the media...
the good, the bad, the ugly, for the rescuers and the soothsayers, the shelterers and the kind words, for the dispassionate, the doubters, the cynical and the apathetic.
The pundits and pontificators, their talking points and bad haircuts, feigning interest at all the scripted moments. For the smiles as the makeup is applied, the vacant suppression of harsh, unforgiving reality in plentiful evidence. The ones that control the present controlling the past controlled the future; as always, blissfully unaware of the consequences...
For the sidebars and scrutiny, the breaking news and tight focus close-ups, hands and mouths reacting in opposite directions, in equal amounts, all from the outside looking in. This is for updates at every quarter of the hour.

This is for the hospitals...
the nursing homes and hospices unprotected and ignored. Piling the dead or leaving them where they lay, morgues and freezers packed tight. This is for the generators that failed too quickly. No sleep or food or water or sanity or safety or hope. For our doctors and nurses, in hellish conditions, against impossible odds, this is for the ultimate and undying respect they deserve. This is for the thugs storming the gates for drugs and evil kicks on top of everything else happening, brash and ignorant of their crime...
For the hotels and hostels, kicking guest out to fend for themselves in our city gone mad. Inundation and tragedy, fragility and breakdown, the worst vacation, convention, honeymoon ever.

This is for the looters...
for the desperate, the prescient, the survivalist hordes. Scavenging and pilfering, salvaging and hoarding anything and everything of use in seemingly useless times.
This is for the business owners, opening their doors wide to allow retrieval of water, food, diapers and formula, keeping their cool and doing the right thing. And for the pharmacies, their good intentions torn asunder by destructive addicts and wasteful ignorance like so many store display shelves.
This is for the home invasions, the armed intrusions, for making a bad situation worse, for spreading the fear...
This is for the ones that made it easier even while others made it ever harder by the minute.

This is for the children...
the lost or outright abandoned, the marginalized or used, for the separation anxiety, trauma and tears on long hot nights that just got worse and worse.
The unfamiliar and the dangerous, the abusive and profane, forsaking even common sense, for the lack of decency, for the bad examples and poor supervision. This is for the countless orphaned souls, forced to bear an adults pain with no advance warning, no preparation or guidance...
This is for the countless smiles, the innocence and playfulness, the ability to make it all disappear, if only for a moment at a time. And for their will, unbreakable and resolute in its purest form and function. This is for what we owe them, first and foremost; their satisfaction will be our compensation over time.

This is for the survivors...
all of us, if any of us, also still, the huge debt owed to those who didn't. This is for all of us in our sad, sad group, no matter where we are at the moment, home or abroad. For the hopes and dreams, reborn from the ashes of the ones previous, for our Phoenix on the bayou. For the nightmares and shock and ennui, the blank stares and paranoia deep into the night. And the helplessness, constricting, paralyzing, numbing...
This is for finding a way to get out of bed in the morning to go to work, gut your houses and reassemble your lives. This is for those that mourn their dead, their missing, their damaged. This is for all of us that are left to find their way back to some semblance of normalcy and well being in these dark times.

This is for the rest of the country...
witnesses to our plight, shelters in the storm, final arbiters of our collective destiny. This is for all of the numerous benefits and donations, the concerns and the heartfelt sorrow. The letters and emails, the long talks on the phone into those September nights and beyond, the shoulders to cry on and beds to sleep in. As well as the showers and food, simple things like ice and clean clothes. For the religious intolerance, the thought that somehow, we deserved this,
that this was God's doing...
This is for the stupidity and hypocrisy, for throwing the first stone when we were down and out. This is for their fatigue, their need to move on, not towards a better understanding, but only to the next sad refrain. For helping us stand, then forcing us to walk away stronger and more assured. This is for those that are rebuilding with us, as well as for the ones that make us want to now more than ever.

This is for the world...
the governments and their citizens, for the superpowers and third-world nations alike.
For their offers and advice, their engineers and city planners, the visits of rebuilding and improved protection. This is for the feeling that we weren't alone, that this has happened before elsewhere, only much worse, that it does get better with hard work and cooperation. For the lessons learned and experience shared; the first real promises of something good in uncertain times. This is for the most that we can share, our lessons, our triumphs and defeats, our heartbreaks and celebrations. This is for an open welcome to the grand rebuilding, our glorious comeback and their involvement in all that promises.

This is for the past...
and how not to repeat it. This is for shoddy levees and interrupted communications, driverless buses and improper shelters. For the wild ride to here, the respite in its warming memories, stories and legends yet to be told.
The anecdotes and folktales, the ghost stories and the pirates' songs, for history and the curious wisdom it imparts. For the good times, the bad times, the in-between times, we all had them here in this place we called home, no matter if you're local or not. This is for why we still call it home today, even if we won't, or can't be here now. This is for the sacrifices, the sweat and blood, the personal tales of reward and loss. This is for the chance to finally get it right, to learn form our mistakes one more time, to teach others the same as well; it's that precious and rare.

This is for the future...
and the promise that it holds.
For the chances in abundance, the endless, limitless boundaries presented. This is for the process of starting over, no matter how long or tough it turns out to be.
For the ways to see beauty in the ugliness, to fashion something new and exciting out of something broken and in a state of disrepair.
This is for our city, its legacy, our neighborhoods and families, friends and foes alike.
For our scenes and cliques, parishes and wards, businesses and hangouts, for the determination to rebuild them all, damn the engines.
Our wishes for a better way are here and now, ready and waiting, the concept of building better, stronger, and more secure. All we have to do is make it happen.
This is for the here and the here from now on.

So this is for you, in your own private way. For peace, contentment, steadfast resolve in trying times. For dignity and patience, reassuring calm after the storm. This is for the knowledge that you are not alone, no matter how lonely it may seem right now. For your hopeful return to the place we call home, if not now,
then in due time...
For the knowledge that she will wait for you, she always has,
she always will...
This is for our fair lady,
our New Orleans,
Past, Present and Future...

New Orleans Ladder